Uncle Daniel's Story Of "Tom" Anderson, and Twenty Great Battles — John Shaqi
Uncle Daniel's Story Of "Tom" Anderson, and Twenty Great BattlesMcElroy, John
History
Uncle Daniel's Story Of "Tom" Anderson, and Twenty Great Battles
McElroy, John
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
“He felt that he had won the day. For hours the battle went steadily on
in this way. I rode up and down the line watching every movement. I took
position finally where I could see the enemy. I never expected to see
officers lead their men as the rebels did on that day. They would rally
their shattered ranks and lead them back into the very jaws of death.
Many fell from their horses, killed or wounded; the field was strewn
with the dead and dying; horses were running in different directions
riderless. I had never seen a battle, and this was so different from
what I had supposed from reading, I took it for granted that, both sides
being unacquainted with war, were doing many things not at all military.
I learned more about it afterward, however. From an eminence, where I
had posted myself, I could see a large column of fresh troops filing
into the plain from the hills some miles away. They were moving rapidly
and coming in the direction of the right flank of our army. I at once
rode as fast as I could to the left, where my son was inline, and for
the first time that day showed myself to him. He seemed somewhat excited
when he saw me, and asked: 'In Heaven's name what are you doing here?'
“I said: 'Never mind me, I am in no danger.'
“I then told him what I had seen, and he at once sent an orderly, with
a note to the General commanding. In a short time, however, we heard
the assault made on our right. It was terrific. Our troops gave way and
commenced falling back. The alarm seemed to go all along the line, and
a general retreat began without orders. Soon the whole army was leaving
the field, and without further resistance gave away the day. The rebel
army was also exhausted, and seemed to halt, in either joy or amazement,
at the action of our forces.
“Just as our army retired I found a poor young officer wounded. I let
him take my horse, thinking that I could walk as fast as the army could
march. I came to the place formerly occupied by my son's regiment. There
I found quite a number of wounded men, and my young son Harvey trying to
help one of his comrades from the field.
“Neither army was then in sight. I heard the sound of horses' hoofs;
looked up, and saw a cavalry troop coming. I supposed it to be our own,
and did not move. They dashed up where we were, and Col. Hunter, in
command, drew his sabre and cut my dear boy down. I caught him as he
fell, his head being cleft open. I burst out loudly in grief, and was
seized as a prisoner. I presume my dress and gray hair saved my life.
I was torn from my son and made to walk some three miles, to the
headquarters of Gen. Jones, who heard my story about my adventure and
my dead boy. He at once released me and sent an officer with me to that
part of the field where my dead child lay.
[Illustration: Death of Harvey Lyon 035]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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